Nobody Knows Anything

For all of the handwringing over the last week and change among the American, British, and French left, one thing remains true: nobody knows anything. I make that statement as a committed handwringer-in-full. My hands have been wrung raw since last Thursday’s debate, and they will remain so until November, at which point my worry will either validated by a Trump win or I’ll have the opportunity to turn my mind towards other, more entertaining disasters.

I’m confident the reason for my anxiety mirrors that of those around the world: rising authoritarian movements across Europe and a cultist authoritarian movement here at home. Those of us – and I feel confident including readers of this Substack – who have any modern historical knowledge understand that these movements always start and end in similar ways.

I bet there was so much French kissing last night. Photo by Reuters/Yara Nardi

They start when an actual problem – usually economic – gets conflated with problems (real or imagined) that often have little or nothing to do with the underlying problem at hand. Immigration, say. Or gay people. Globalists. The authoritarian tosses as many scapegoats into their cauldron as they can until, finally, it boils over. When it does, they present themself as the only one who can clean up the mess. “I alone,” they declare, “Can fix it.”

That’s how they start. They generally end in bloodshed. That’s because the authoritarian, upon seizing power, must continue to stir the pot. If the underlying conditions improve, they have to find new enemies to justify their heavy-handedness. If the underlying conditions do not improve, they must double and triple down on their lies about the enemies of the state thwarting their ambitions. Either path leads to violence.

As our collective historical memory of global war fades, memories of its harrowing consequences fade as well. I imagine most people have a visceral abhorrence to war, but for those of us who never had to live through such times, is that enough? I’m two generations removed from the Holocaust, for example, my children three. For their children, it will be as distant as the Civil War was for me. Horrors of more recent vintage will certainly fill their nightmares instead, but I worry that our growing amnesia regarding the horrors we can do to each other are slow-walking us towards some kind of disaster.

We all sense it. Regardless of who sits in the White House, poll after poll shows a continuing trend of Americans believing the nation is on the wrong track. We’re the richest, most powerful nation in the history of the world and the vast majority believes we done fucked it all up. Look at this Gallup poll:

Depending on your political preferences, you could interpret the sentiment fueling such pessimism any way you like, but the message I take away is this: we don’t know who we are or what we want.

Think about your own life for a moment. When are you least and most happy? Personally, I am least happy when I find myself unmoored and listless. I’m happiest when I feel productive and useful to others. Which is the United States since, say, the Vietnam War? Unmoored and listless, or productive and useful to others?

We’ve certainly had moments of greatness since then, but the narrative around the United States has gradually become disjointed. Are we the global superpower standing for freedom and democracy? Or are we the overfed pig at the trough of global capitalism? Are we innovators or also-rans? Do we stand up for our founding values or do we turn a blind eye when those values aren’t represented by our global partners who have something we want? Are Americans served by our institutions or are we in service to those institutions?

Into that miasma strides the carnival barker. “Step right up,” they say. “Prepare to be amazed.” The nature of amazement may be a matter of debate, but safe to say, amazed we shall be. We’ve already had four unbelievable years with our most recent carnival barker. Despite the fact that his promises went unfulfilled: “I’m going to build a wall and Mexico is going to pay for it!” “I’m going to repeal and replace Obamacare with something beautiful!” and, of course, the much ballyhooed “Infrastructure week!” Politifact found 55 such broken campaign promises (compared to 3 for Biden). Yet almost half the country wants more.

Why? Because the authoritarian promises solutions but offers outrage, and the outrage feels like a solution. It’s not. Being angry at transpeople for wanting to be treated with respect may feel like you’re doing something, but what is it actually accomplishing? You’re just channeling your anxiety towards a target, which gives you purpose, and it’s that purpose that makes you feel better. Even though your purpose is unrelated to your problem.

That’s what Trump offers. That’s what all authoritarians offer. LePen, same thing. I don’t pretend to know enough about French politics to have a nuanced understanding of their authoritarian impulses, but I know their obsession with preserving “French culture,” mirrors the American obsession with our own fabled and misremembered history. What was the disastrous Brexit movement about, if not the same? Keeping Britain British, and all that bullshit. “Preserve our heritage” sounds like a dogwhistle in any language. Too many of us are willing to jettison our value system if we think it’ll put another dollar in our pockets.

Yesterday’s results out of France were certainly encouraging. That competing political parties set aside their differences to ensure the nation’s rightwing remains out of office gives me a bit of relief heading into the final months of the American presidential campaign. I don’t know what’s going to happen. Nobody does. Because nobody knows anything. So I will continue to apply generous dollops of lanolin to my hands for the next few months with the hope that things will work out fine. The French borrowed our revolution once, and so today I borrow their famous motto as a gentle reminder of the values I try to hold, regardless of who is in charge: liberty, equality, fraternity.